In many ways this chapter is a continuation of the discussion about gilded glass from Chapter 3 and, accordingly, a summary of that chapter’s main points is use-ful. As previously mentioned there was a fourteenth-century revival of a form of ancient sandwich glass with imagery etched into a gilded panel called verre églo-misé. And as examples from the late-thirteenth through early-fifteenth century demonstrate, gilded glass was frequently used to decorate sites which marked a convergence between the heavenly and earthly spheres. Bernardo Daddi’s paint-ing of the Madonna enshrined in Orcagna’s tabernacle, for instance, functioned as a conduit between God’s divine will and his faithful flock by seemingly respond-ing to prayers with miraculous deeds. In the case of the tomb of Saint Dominic, the Arca, Nicola Pisano used gilded glass to commemorate the saint’s body, his most precious holy relic. Like all primary relics, that is, relics consisting of saints’
body parts, Dominic’s corpse embodied profound connections to both the spiri-tual and the mundane. These relics were human remains and therefore firmly part of the material world. At the same time, they had profound spiritual significance as the human being in question had been canonized and thus considered to be of divine stature.
The present chapter addresses similar themes. Its case studies are all reliquaries that feature verre églomisé and the imagery inscribed on the glass shares similar formal qualities with the gilded panels by Giotto’s workshop (Figure 3.6), Paolo di Giovanni Fei (Figure 3.7), and Lorenzo Monaco. The artworks that follow
contain highly modeled figural scenes etched into the gilding and present the viewer with a unique meditative opportunity because the pictorial light and sur-face light intermingle within a single artwork.
The reason this chapter has been separated from the earlier discussion is because these reliquaries also feature something not found in previous examples:
a unique combination of gilded glass and transparent glass. In fact, in most cases, the portions of verre églomisé are positioned directly adjacent to sections of trans-parent glass. Therefore, it was important to first establish an understanding of the perception and history of transparent glass, as done in Chapters 4 and 5. The reliquaries’ juxtaposition of transparent glass and gilded glass results in a complex interplay of formal qualities and symbolic meaning.
Verre Églomisé Reliquaries
The Metropolitan Museum’s Reliquary Diptych (Figure 6.1) is a representative example of a large group of mass-produced verre églomisé reliquaries from the fourteenth century made in central Italy for the Franciscan order.1 It is a diptych, meaning it has two wooden panels joined by hinges along the inner edges. Each panel consists of a wooden frame and glass panel. When open, it is approximately eight inches wide and seven inches tall. The backs of the panels, visible when closed, each feature a red cross outlined in gold outline dividing the panel into four roughly equal quadrants. It was likely used for personal devotion by a mem-ber of the Franciscan order or a wealthy pilgrim who may have obtained it as a souvenir from Assisi or another important Franciscan site.2
The Metropolitan’s diptych uses the verre églomisé technique to illustrate the Nativity and Crucifixion in the center of each panel and the Angel Gabriel and Virgin Annunciate in lunettes atop each panel. The borders framing the main scenes are also filled with verre églomisé imagery. The Nativity is surrounded by symbols of the four evangelists and two unidentified saints, while portraits of Saints Peter, Paul, Francis, and Clare, along with two other unidentified saints, frame the Crucifixion. Interspersed between these saints’ portraits are a series of rectangular fields without gilded imagery.3 These small, rectangular sections are left untreated and thus function like small windows revealing a variety of relics, including those of Mary Magdalene and the True Cross, along with the relics’
authentics, or identifying labels.
The extant reliquaries demonstrate that verre églomisé was used to decorate a variety of portable reliquary types, including diptychs, triptychs, roundels, and
processional crosses or panels.4 Most of these reliquaries were products of four-teenth-century Italian workshops in Umbria or the Marcheswith some exceptions dating to the late twelfth century and early fifteenth century.5
As mentioned in Chapter 3, Cennino Cennini describes verre églomisé as a process wherein an artist applied gold leaf to portions of a glass panel, inscribed imagery into the gold leaf in reverse, and then protected the work with a black or colored backing.6 To understand the role an artist might have played, it is useful to compare Cennini’s instructions for this technique to other passages in his treatise.
In his discussion of stained-glass windows, for example, Cennini includes advice on designing and painting the glass but omits instructions for making stained glass. This omission suggests that Cennini’s intended audience, the artist, was not expected to cast the glass, only design and paint it. Similarly, when giving direc-tions for verre églomisé, Cennini does not provide details on how to cast the glass Figure 6.1: Italian Workshop, Reliquary Diptych, late-14th century, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of J. Pierpont Morgan, 1917 (17.190.982). Source: Pub-lic Domain, The Metropolitan Museum of Art (CC0).
panel. He does, however, include descriptions for every other step of the process, suggesting that perhaps his reader was to perform all these steps.
Also contained within Cennini’s discussion is a brief comment on the recep-tion and applicarecep-tion of the technique. He notes that verre églomisé is “inde-scribably attractive, fine, and unusual, and this is a branch of great piety, for the embellishment of holy reliquaries.” Missing from Cennini’s texts is further elabo-ration on on why verre églomisé was considered so “indescribably attractive, fine and unusual,” why was it associated with such “great piety,” and, perhaps most pertinent to the present discussion, why it was associated with reliquaries. But one can make some inferences.
One could posit that the “attractive” and “fine” qualities to which Cennini refers were related to the shimmering, golden highlights of the gilded imagery.
With its almost supernatural sparkle, the verre églomisé Crucifixion scene appears at once part mosaic, part metalwork, and part miniature, certainly an “unusual”
trait for the devotional art of this time. The “great piety” associated with verre églomisé is equally difficult to explicate with extant documentation but it may find partial explanation in the precedents discussed in Chapter 3 and in the technique’s ancient applications. As mentioned in Chapter 3, early Christians in Rome used roundels decorated with gilded glass to decorate utilitarian objects like bowls and plates and then repurposed them into grave markers. In the case of early Christian martyrs, these panels of gilded glass would have functioned as secondary relics, meaning, they were given special status because they had close contact with a saint.
This chapter contributes an important component to the ongoing dialog about the reception of verre églomisé and its association with reliquaries as referenced by Cennini. At the same time, because the case studies presented here span the entire fourteenth century, this discussion also joins the debate about the impact of the Black Death on artistic practice. Like the artworks by Paolo di Giovanni Fei and Lorenzo Monaco, the reliquaries in this chapter question Meiss’s claim because they were made after the plague but, yet, display continued interest in naturalistic imag-ery. Furthermore, at least two of the works were made in Siena, a city particularly impacted by the devastation of the Black Death.7 Finally, this chapter may shed even more light on the optical interests and artistic patronage of the Franciscans.